The 36th Floor

"Please, please let me cum. Please let me cum. Please let me cum. Please, please please let me cum. Please let me cum. Please let me cum. I need to cum. Please please I NEED to cum, please let me cum. Please let me cum."

Shelley's begging was incessant. It was repetitive but at the same time there was this increasingly desperate, and desolate urgency that dripped from her mouth with the words. When she tearfully told of her 'need' to cum, she meant it. She meant every word of it. It was like she couldn't get over enough how desperate she was. There were tears and there was snot. There was her ruined makeup, her running black mascara and her chipped chewed lipsticked lips. And if she could have clawed between her legs, she would have, even if only to try and get some gratification for herself, but she couldn't and she never would. It was the desperate actions of a young girl who couldn't gratify herself any more, not like she used to.

"You know cumming is not an option for you. You know that cumming is something you earn, at 'my' discretion. And you haven't earned an orgasm. You haven't showed me you deserve another orgasm."

The woman who was speaking to Shelley was mature, well spoken, educated and she was supremely confident. She sat with long, nylon sheathed legs crossed and her stiletto bobbing gently up and down. She brushed imaginary dust from her fitted skirt.

"Please, please, please Miss Sadie, please let me cum. I'll do anything, anything at all. Please Miss Sadie please. For fucks sakes please let me cum."

Oh yes, there was this utter desperation in her voice that told of no other need than to be given the much addictive feel of a wet orgasm rushing through her. That was what was essential to her. That was the only thing that she was focussed on. The only thing that she needed right at this time. The only thing that would be acceptable to her. So the refusal was like something that was bursting her bubble and just made her more tearful, more needy, more desperate.

"It's not an option. But it's interesting, what you say about doing 'anything', 'anything at all'. That tells me a lot. And it tells me that you and me are going to get along just fine."

Ms Duvet got up from the chair she was sitting on and she brushed herself down a little bit in that elegant way she had a habit of doing.

"I'm going to leave you with Malcolm here for a little while. If you're a good girl for him, then he might let you orgasm. If you're not a good girl on the other hand, then, well your 'need' will go on."

When Sadie spoke she spoke as though it was normal for her to be saying what she was saying. And that kind of blurred the glossy world that she lived in. It was like this polished, statuesque woman, this powerful city lawyer inhabited a grey area between her normal world, the glamorous one, and this less that savoury world - this sleazy, sex drenched world of micro control that Shelly was existing in. It was like this woman could dip in and out of this world at will. And this had to entice questions about her, and her morals, and not least her professional ethics.